


Painting the Sky

by Shinyshinx



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Childhood Trauma, M/M, idek, insane asylum, insanity au, potential smut, psychologist carlos, psychologist/patient au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 20:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinyshinx/pseuds/Shinyshinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Psychologist Carlos discovers a man named Cecil-who believes he lives in a town called Night Vale-while working at his new job in a remote area. His curiosity about the patient leads to conversations and recordings played back over and over again, and discoveries of what caused Cecil's fragile mind to break turn up and reveal unexpected turns of events as time goes on and love takes its hold on the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painting the Sky

As much as the other doctors had warned him beforehand, Carlos was still caught off guard by the man sitting at the desk tucked into the corner of the small room near the door, speaking to no one, rambling in a way that only made sense to him.  
“--Not _another_ one! I’m sorry for being rude, sir, but I just can’t concentrate with all you silly hooded figures wandering into my booth! You never make any other noise besides the hissing of static, and if I have to listen to anymore of that, I’ll go-ugh. I can’t leave my studio, but I can point you to the door, and Dana can always-” With a spin of his chair, the man whirled to face him, and what met Carlos’s eyes was a large purple tattoo, smack dab in the center of his forehead.  
Piercings littered his face; nose stud, lip ring, snake bite, good-sized white gauges in each of his ears, not small enough to be hard to find, but not big enough to be gross. More earrings running along the remainder of his ears, eyebrows. The man was covered in piercings.  
His hair was a light blonde, almost platinum, neatly tucked under a beanie, and his deep gray eyes behind his glasses were of the topmost intensity, and frankly were captivating. Tattoos ran up and down his arms-each ended with a single eye on the back of each hand. He was nicely dressed, which was another element that caught Carlos by surprise; giving his location, a tie and vest seemed out of place, and yet they suited his skinny frame just the same.  
He jumped as he noticed Carlos for the first time, gray gray eyes widening ever so slightly, mouth dropping into a soft ‘o’. Immediately he stood and offered Carlos his hand. His voice was smooth, not the trace of a stammer, though his expression suggested he was flustered. “Wow, okay, I’d just like to apologize for that little misjudgement-obviously, you’re not a hooded figure. Anyway. My name is Cecil Gershwin Palmer, here’s my humble studio.” He waved with a flourish, his face tinted the softest of pinks, a big, cheerful smile on his face. “And-I’m sorry, but I’ve just got to say it, your hair is absolutely _perfect._ ” And to anyone watching, it would’ve been completely obvious that Cecil was gushing.  
Carlos-finally seeming to recover from his shock-blinked a few times, before returning Cecil’s smile with one of his own. “Oh! Well, thank you! I’m Carlos, it’s a pleasure.” He took Cecil’s hand and gave it a gentle shake. “Mind if we sit?” He gestured towards the table in the center of the room; Cecil immediately moved to do as he was told, apparently in a good mood. Carlos quickly followed suit.  
Carlos was used to these types of people. He was a psychologist, after all; it came with the job, a side salad to go with his meals. He’d sat and said the same things to more patients than he could count. Figured out eventually just what was the matter, gave it a name and a perscription, shook hands and left to start the process over. This hospital he’d accepted was different than the others that had requested him; this was where the truly lost people went, the ones that saw and spoke to things that only existed in the realms of their minds. Cecil had been assigned to him by request. The description had proven interesting; he believed he lived in a town he called Night Vale.  
It was his high status that had allowed him to keep Cecil. The other doctors had wanted Carlos to solve all their problems; start with the terrified screaming ones, the ones with the empty eyes and strangled pain evident on their faces. And yet. Cecil had caught his eye by mistake. His file was shoved aside, obviously not nearly as important to them, and he’d questioned its presence, picked it up and went through it. Begrudgingly, he got what he wished for.  
“So, hey, like I said, I’m Carlos. I’m just going to check up on you every day, and ask a few questions each time, if that’s alright with you.” At Cecil’s eager nod, he continued. “Seeing as it’s the first time we’ve met, I thought I’d start with some simple things. Why not talk to me about the things you like and don’t, and your favorites? Your music taste, maybe you want to let off some steam….anything at all, really.” With another big-if slightly fake-smile, he leaned back in his chair, partially curious, partially going through the same routine as he usually did with his patients.  
“Oh, well, my likes and dislikes are easy.” Cecil hummed softly, placing his elbows onto the table and adjusting his beanie. “I like snakes, dogs, my home, the citizens of Night Vale, recording, old woman Josie,” Pause, hum. Although Carlos didn’t notice, Cecil’s eyes hadn’t left him the whole time-both stormy grays and even the purple one on his forehead stayed steadily in place, looking at him with a silly, fascinated expression. “...Angels, dragons, Khoshekh, Dana, sweater vests, anything purple, the sky and its various shades. And, well, also, your hair.” He smiled shyly as he said this, and finally looked away from Carlos to his hands. “It’s just _absolutely perfect!_ ”  
He twiddled his fingers a moment before looking up and continuing with his list. Carlos had noticed that Cecil had leaned pretty close; their elbows were nearly touching, and that purple eye seemed to stare into his very being. And yet, he made no move to back off. Cecil was proving more and more interesting with every word. “Heh, thanks again! Snakes, hm? A bit of an unusual favorite. It’s cool.” He tilted his head a bit and tapped at his bottom lip. “Is that what inspired the snake bite, then?”  
“Oh, the piercing, no! That was actually a sweet sixteen birthday gift-mom took me out to get it.” A sudden thought sent Cecil’s face into darkness. It stayed only a moment-and yet, Carlos had found it, the chink in his armor. He could expose it and get to the root of the problem if he chased it and asked more questions regarding it; but Cecil didn’t trust him enough yet. Another chance would arrive in time; it was imperative for him to remember that.  
“Well, it looks really awesome! I’m sorry for interrupting, you can finish.”  
Cecil blinked. “Right! My dislikes. Unfortunately to say, there are a lot….Hm. Homophobia, the Apache Tracker and his awful racism, Steve Carlsberg, Desert Bluffs, librarians, mirrors, Station management. And Kevin. Especially Kevin. Mostly Kevin. I despise Kevin.” With a huff of disgust, the odd man leaned back in his seat.  
“Why do you hate Kevin so much?” His twin brother. It was in his file. When Kevin visited the hospital last, Cecil had put him in the hospital with several broken bones. No one knew why; Cecil immediately tried to get away from Kevin when he stepped into the room, and when he figured out he was stuck, like a trapped animal-he attacked him. It must’ve seemed like the logical thing to do at the time.  
Cecil’s eyebrows crinkled as he thought the question over. “I…..can’t remember.” He bit his lip, pondering on how he should word his thoughts. “He has such an evil vibe to him. I remember, there’s a another reason why…” He shifted uncomfortably, eyebrows creased in concentration. “I can’t really explain why, but the best thing to do would be just to kill him. I almost did, once. But if I had, that would’ve made me a hypocrite.” He sighed softly, catching Carlos’s eye with some hesitance. “I hope you don’t think less of me for that.”  
Another opportunity to pry that Carlos let slip. Discussing Kevin further could be triggering; seeing as Cecil got violent around Kevin, it would probably be best to leave it be. Plus, it sounded as though Cecil had a gap in his memory, the cause of his hatred. It had to been something quite traumatizing for him to forget it completely. It happened often with the other patients.  
“Of course not, Cecil. In fact, I’m glad-you actually kept yourself from killing him, which takes a lot of self-restraint. I’ve been with a lot of patients that hadn’t been able to handle themselves that well, and ended up in a place like this, so you should be proud of yourself!” Carlos stated with a smile-something like a bit of pride filled his mind. He barely knew this man, was it normal to be proud of him?  
Meanwhile, Cecil’s eyes shined at the praise, his own smile wide in a barely contained expression of happiness. “Oh, well then! I’m so very glad! See, I would hate it if me saying something like that so soon would make our chances of being friends dissipate. I seem to scare off a lot of people, unfortunately.” He scooted slightly in his seat-and then something Carlos had said seemed to click in his mind, and he sank back in what resembled disappointment. “Oh. I’m sorry, but did you say patients?”  
“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m a psychologist, or, more specifically, your psychologist. I’m trying to figure out a way for you to be able to leave your ro-studio, and be able to walk around outside and things like that. It’s my job.” Carlos explained-clueless to how Cecil seemed to sink further in his seat at his words. What followed from the patient was a soft “Oh.” and an obvious shift in mood; one not even Carlos could miss. He tilted his head slightly, confused as to what he’d said wrong. Had he triggered a bad memory? “Is something wrong, Cecil?”  
“Oh! No, of course not! Just. A bit lost in thought, I suppose.” The cheerfulness drained from his diameter suggested otherwise. Carlos sensed he must’ve said something by mistake, and also picked up on the thought that maybe it was time to leave, figure out just what he’d done to upset the energetic blonde. With that decision, he moved to stand up, eyebrows crinkled in slight bafflement. “Well, Cecil, it’s almost time for lunch, so we’ll talk tomorrow again, alright? I’ll see you later. It was really great to meet you!”  
Cecil blinked and looked at him with a somewhat out of it expression. “Oh, of course! And you as well, Carlos. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He shifted a bit, giving him a smallish smile before standing up, straightening his beanie, and taking his seat that the desk in the corner of the room. “Goodbye!”  
Carlos was a bit taken back by this behavior, but in the end he decided not to question it, and took his leave. The cafeteria smelled as though it was serving ingestible food, anyway. He could think about his mess up after a sandwhich.

**Author's Note:**

> wow so this is my first multi-chapter fic in a really long time, so sorry if this is a shitty start. i hope you like it, though, and thank you for taking the time to read it!
> 
> update: i took out the non-con i was considering adding on later, mostly because after thinking it over i'm not sure if i'm really comfortable writing it. the story is officially non-con free.


End file.
